Infiltration

A sweet disorder in the dress

Kindless in clothes a wantonness

A lawn about the shoulders thrown

Into a fine distraction

An erring lace which here and there

Enthralls the crimson stomacher

I'm crying here

Would you ever come with me

Never let me infiltrate what I call free

And not expecting pardon

Hardened in heard anew

Thunder and rain with you

And grateful too

My reality for you

Could be quenched simply by returning

To those shores where I might hear your voice

My reality for you

Could be quenched simply by returning

To those shores where I might hear your voice

In a cantilena of blue

A sweet disorder in the dress

Kindless in clothes a wantonness

A lawn about the shoulders thrown

Into a fine distraction